The Dead and The Forgotten
by SinnersLikeUs
Summary: He's damned and dead. She'd long gone and forgotten. They never got a chance, too twisted in their own little ways. It's too late, and they both knew it. Two-Shot/Drabble. SPOILERS for Midnight. R&R! Now updated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : I just finished _Midnight_, and, HOLY GOD, did I bawl. This contains many spoilers, just a warning. Also, this is my first shot at a VD fic.**

**Disclaimer : _The Vampire Diaries _belongs to LJ Smith. Which is not me.**

–

The Dead and The Forgotten:

_He _was gone.

Forever.

There was nothing anyone could do about it. Not Meredith, not Stefan, not Matt. Not Elena, no matter how hard she tried.

Not Bonnie.

_He _had died, sacrificed himself to save her. To save Bonnie. _His _Redbird. He'd heroically thrown her out of the line of fire, taking the stake to the heart himself. How gallant. How romantic. How heartbreaking. How perfect.

Sure, they had saved the day. Had finally gotten rid of Shinichi and Misao and Obaasan. Caroline was back to normal, as was Tyler Smallwood. Vickey Bennett and Sue Carson were alive once again, and nobody thought Elena Gilbert had been dead for the last ten months. Stefan was accepted as her boyfriend, even as Elena had loved his brother. Still did.

Bonnie supposed that was something they had in common.

She'd admit it now. She loved—loves—_him_. _Him_ and his stuck up, smart ass attitude. How _he _insulted anyone and everyone on every turn. How _he_ meant to betray them and ended up saving the day. How she knew, deep down, _he_ was—_is_, damn it—a good guy.

She knew it. Everyone, whether they said it or not, knew it.

But now _he_ was dead.

And it was all _her fault_.

"If I hadn't been so careless and—and _stupid_!" she yelled to Meredith when they delivered the news. "If I could have sat still for a _minute_! If I didn't have to childishly jump up at every opprotunity to play hero when I know it's not my place! _He _would still be alive!"

Then, as Bonnie had a tendency to do, she burst into tears. Would they ever just run out one day? Was it possible to cry yourself dry?

God, she was immature.

She was nearly eighteen. She shouldn't cry over a boy. She shouldn't cry over _everything_.

Meredith had always been calm and cool, giving her an air of an older person. Elena had always been smart and calculating. The two were brilliant and beautiful. And loved.

Everything Bonnie believed she wasn't.

_He _had loved Elena. Elena was strong, _he _admired strength.

But Bonnie had still loved _him _as much as her heart could handle. She'd given _him _her heart, and _he _didn't even know.

And now he never would.

It was raining outside, she noted dumbly. She was numb, the cold droplets not even registering in her mind as she sat in Mrs. Flower's backyard. She was on her knees near the garden. She wanted to cry.

She couldn't. No tears came out.

So she screamed instead.

Over thunder, she yelled, "_I hate you_!" And it was true. She hated _him_ for leaving her. She hated _him_ for not returning her feelings. She hated _him_ because he was a stuck-up bastard. She hated _him_ because_ he_ was so crude. She hated _him_ for saving her and not letting her die with her heart in one piece. She hated _him_ for make her so utterly depressed.

Maybe she hated herself, a little, too.

_He_ was dead. She was forgotten. By _him_. She would always and forever remember _him_, keep _him_ close to her heart, but did _he_ ever think of her by anything else than a means to get what _he_ wanted? _He'd_ used her, abused her. Broke her.

_He _had been sorry. Had apologized.

Did he know that she forgave _him_?

As she shrieked, she blurry noticed the earth below her shake in response to her anger. Was that her fault? Her own supernatural abilities.

She didn't _want _anything supernatural anymore!

Lifting her hands from the wet ground, she clawed at her own arms, thinking it would make the magic stop. When it didn't she just screamed harder, blaming _him_.

"Bonnie!" The red-headed witch didn't turn, but she did stop scratching at herself.

Her arms were bleeding. "Go away," she whispered hoarsely. For once, she didn't want comfort. She didn't want hugs. She only wanted _him_.

Ignoring her wishes, two arms wrapped around her small frame and she started shaking with sobs. Finally, the thunder and ground stopped reacting to her, and calmed.

She clutched onto the person holding her—didn't care who—like a life line.

"I know," they said. "I miss him, too."

Gasping, trying to catch her breath, she said, "I loved him. _I loved Damon!_ And—and—and—" She found herself unable to continue, and the person with her just stroked her hair.

"I know..."

–

**A/N: How utterly depressing. But, personally, I don't think Bonnie reacted enough to Damon's death. Especially when we figured out that she had been in love with him.**

**R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : This is a Sequel to _The Dead And The Forgotten_. I really didn't think I'd write another VD fic (_Midnight_ left me greatly disappointed), but this idea for a sequel kept bugging me, so here I am.**

**Disclaimer : The talented LJ Smith owns _The Vampire Diaries_, not SinnersLikeUs.**

–

The Damned and The Gone:

_Left foot, right foot. Left. Right. _This had been Damon Salvatore's mantra for the past month. _Breathe. Left. Right._

He was going back for them. For Bonnie and Elena.

At first, his revival had been disorienting. He hadn't known who he was, where he had to go—but he _did _know that he had to go back for a girl with golden hair, and a fiery witch with big, brown eyes.

More or less, he was himself again. A little more leveled, a little more honest, maybe. But wouldn't death certainly change a person?

When Damon arrived at where he thought the boarding house to be, he was surprised. It was _different_. Totally new. He could smell that Mrs. Flower's still lived here, however, the scent of herbs and tea teasing his nose.

He almost knocked, but shrugged it off. He was Damon; he didn't knock. He might as well show back up like he never left.

So, for better or for worse, he opened the door and stepped inside the threshold.

The group was in the front room, talking and drinking beverages. Elena and Stefan shared the loveseat, holding hands. Meredith sat with Alaric, who had come back from wherever the hell he had been, evidently. Matt sat in the arm chair with his head hanging in his hands. Mrs. Flower's, Damon assumed, was somewhere in the kitchen.

The thing he noticed the most, however, was that they were all dressed in black, with melancholy faces. Elena was crying, and even Meredith looked close to tears.

"Who died?" It was the first thing that slipped out of his mouth, and everyone jumped at his voice.

Nobody said anything for a while. Finally, Elena and Stefan stood. "_Damon_," the blonde breathed, eyes still crying.

Ignoring the depressing aura of the room, he sat on the couch, lounging with his hands folded behind his head and his feet kicking up on the coffee table. "I'm sure you all missed me," he said cockily, surely. Still the Damon everyone loved to hate.

No one challenged him. No one answered. Matt sighed.

"Why's everyone so damn upset?" he finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him. "And where's Bonnie?" She couldn't have gone to college yet, right? And, if anyone, _she'd _be less than depressed to see him.

From the other couch, he heard Meredith gasp, and Elena chocked on a sob. Stefan winced before walking towards him.

"We thought you were dead," he said, sitting down next to his brother.

Damon shrugged. "Guess not." Why wasn't anyone asking what had happened to him? "Why are you all dressed like your going to a funeral?"

"_Shut the fuck up_." Damon found himself starting at the crude language. Not even he himself used such coarse words in the boarding house, not particularly wanting to be chastised by Mrs. Flowers.

Everyone looked to Matt in surprise. "Matt," Elena said gently, "Calm down. He doesn't know."

"What don't I know?" Damon stood now, making a point to glare at everyone. He found himself getting nervous. "What happened? Where's Bonnie?"

Stefan stood to stand in front of him holding his hands out peaceably. "Damon, you were gone for over a month. A lot has happened..." the younger Salvatore brother ran a hand through his hair. "You have to understand not everything is how you left it."

They were talking in riddles now? "Where the _hell _is Bonnie?" His voice was low, scary to even himself.

Meredith stood now, surprising everyone. "She's gone, Damon. I know you want everyone to rejoice about you coming back, but I'd trade you in a heartbeat." She gave a startling laugh. "God, is _this _why Bonnie had to go? Was this some sort of sick trade-off?"

Alaric gripped her hand, pulling her down and speaking to her in whispers. Meredith was crying. Damon doesn't think he ever saw the cool-headed girl cry before, never mind _bawl _like she was now.

He turned quickly, grabbing Stefan's shoulders hard enough to probably leave bruises. "You tell me what happened, little brother, and you tell me _now_."

Stefan shook his head slowly, not looking afraid. "Bonnie had been depressed lately, to a point where her magic was almost uncontrollable with her feelings. I remember one day, I went outside and the ground was literally _shaking_. I calmed her down, but..." he trailed off.

Damon gave him a swift shake. "_Tell me_."

"Bonnie killed herself." Damon looked away from Stefan, to Matt who was blankly staring at him. "She hung herself in her closet. I found her when she stopped coming over."

The black-haired boy dropped Stefan, taking a step back. _No_. His Redbird couldn't be dead. He couldn't have failed so quickly...

"Her... Her funeral's today," Elena continued, staring at the floor.

Damon spun so that he could face everyone. "You're lying! You're all fucking liars!"

"Damon, I—"

He didn't want to hear it.

So he ran.

Simply turned on his heel and bolted out the door not stopping until he reached the cemetery, knowing he wouldn't find Bonnie's grave site there. According to the group, she hadn't been buried yet.

"Bonnie!" he shouted anyway. "Why are you so _stupid_? I was coming back! For _you_!" He glared up at the sky, as if it were supposed to answer. "Damn it, Bonnie, you _answer me_!"

Nothing happened, and he fell to his knees in broad daylight. People passing gave him a wide berth.

His bit at his lip until he tasted blood. How could he already had failed? It didn't make sense! Finally, he looked down at his hand, where the lapis lazuli ring sat, protecting him.

Grinning masochistically, he fingered the jewel.

Well, if he was damned anyway...

–

**A/N : I know what you're thinking. "He has Elena still! Isn't that enough?" No, not it isn't. I think he loves Bonnie, in his own way.**

**Review please!**


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